


bad idea.

by maruyaaya



Category: BanG Dream! (Anime), BanG Dream! Girl's Band Party! (Video Game)
Genre: Aged up characters, Drunk Character, F/F, Mentions of Sex, aya is still an idol, bandori rare pair, based off of bad idea by girl in red, because we kindated ranaya before actually dating, dedicated to my gf if she sees this, gonna single handedly fill ao3 with ranaya fics, hey guys !, hina chisato moca and himari are mentioned, i fucking love ranaya guys, if that wasnt obvious enough by the title, no beta we die, not like men, pog !!!, ran is studying music in college and is still in afterglow, ranaya pog, unhealthy relationships that turn healthy, we just die
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-10
Updated: 2021-01-10
Packaged: 2021-03-14 18:27:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28675191
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maruyaaya/pseuds/maruyaaya
Summary: "It was a bad idea calling you up"Ran's made a lot of bad decisions in her lifetime so what's one more if it has the chance to get her ex girlfriend back?
Relationships: Maruyama Aya/Mitake Ran
Comments: 3
Kudos: 32





	bad idea.

**Author's Note:**

> lol i wrote this at like 2 am last night so haHA not proofread :D

_It was a bad idea calling you up._

“Aya.” Ran raises her phone to her ear, voice coming out in barely a whisper. She looks out the window, staring at the dark blue sky twinkling with stars above. She can tell that it’s a bad idea. She can tell that she probably shouldn’t be doing this. But at this point she doesn’t particularly care. 

“Ran?” Aya’s voice is soft on the other side of the phone and Ran can feel something inside of her chest swell at just the sound of Aya. God, she wants to see her so bad. She wants to run her hands through Aya’s hair and kiss her forehead softly. She wants Aya to whisper to her that everything is going to be okay. 

Ran wants a lot of things that she can’t have. 

“I miss you,” Ran breathes out, voice slurring as a sharp pain stabs through her head. Perhaps she’s been drinking a little bit too much she realizes as he eyes fall on the empty wine bottle laying on her desktop.

“Why do you only ever call me when you’re drunk?” Ran can hear the soft sigh on the end of Aya’s words. Ran puts the phone on speaker mode, setting it down on her bed as she searches through her room for another bottle of wine (because she knows that there has to be one somewhere since it isn’t like her to have only _one_ bottle of wine in her room at a time). 

“I don’t- I don’t only call you when I’m drunk.” Ran takes a sip out of the bottle, setting it down on her desk with a small thud. She presses a hand against her forehead, already feeling the incoming headache. 

(Sober Ran is going to have a really fun time dealing with this hangover.)

“I’m not coming over.” Aya’s voice is strained as if trying to resist every temptation to listen to whatever Ran tells her. Ran thinks that she’s glad Aya isn’t the one asking her to come over because as much as she doesn’t want to admit it, she’d probably sell her organs on the black market if Aya told her to. 

(She’s not a “simp” as Moca likes to call her. She’s just completely, utterly, irrevocably in love with her ex-girlfriend who she hooks up with from time to time. 

...Maybe she is a simp.)

“Please,” Ran mutters, nearly knocking over the bottle as she reaches for her phone, She winces as the bottle spins, barely managing to catch it before the red liquid spills over her carpet. Sober Ran would be even more pissed if she discovered a stain in her favourite carpet (that Aya had given to her for her birthday, she remembers). 

“...No,” Aya pauses before answering, contemplating both the pros and cons of hooking up with Ran. She knows exactly what it’ll entail and it’s more trouble than it’s worth. Ran can admit it. She can admit that she is more trouble than she’s worth. She’s not that far stuck up her ass. 

“Why not?” And even though she might be able to admit that it wouldn’t be a good idea for Aya to come, that doesn’t mean that she’s not going to try and convince her to come. 

“Ran, _you_ broke up with _me_. You can’t keep taking advantage of me because I’m sad,” Aya’s voice breaks on the other end of the phone and Ran can almost imagine the look on Aya’s face. 

“Please,” Ran repeats and she knows that she probably shouldn’t. She knows that she’s going to regret this in the morning, but regret hasn’t exactly stopped her from doing anything before. 

Her bad drunk decisions are something for sober Ran to take care of, not drunk Ran. 

“This is a bad idea,” Aya mutters mostly to herself as Ran runs a hand through her hair, picking up her phone and pressing it against her ear. 

“Please,” Ran whispers once more and a soft sigh echoes through Aya’s end of the phone. Ran can imagine Aya furrowing her eyebrows, raiding a hand to her lips as she bites her nails (despite Chisato telling her many, many times not to). 

“Give me ten,” Aya sighs before ending the call with a soft beep. Ran smiles, throwing her phone onto her bed without so much as a care in the world. She reaches for the bottle on her table, lifting it to her lips and taking another sip. 

Tonight’s going to be a good night, she smiles.

* * *

_Darling, you’re so pretty, it hurts._

There’s a knock at her door and Ran scrambles off of her bed, empty bottle falling to the floor with a clang. She knows who it is. There’s only one person who’d be visiting her this late at night (and also it was the only person who she called to come over earlier, but that’s irrelevant). 

“Ran?” Aya’s soft voice echoes through the door and Ran pulls the door open, nearly falling over in her panic to get to the door quickly. Aya stands in front of her, dressed in a soft pink sweater with a white skirt underneath. Ran can feel her heart swell at just how _fucking_ cute Aya is. From the light blush painting her cheeks to the pink hair cascading down her shoulders, Ran finds everything about her absolutely stunning. 

“You’re so pretty, Aya.” Ran runs a hand through her hair, biting her lip as Aya tilts her head. Ran’s hand falls to her shoulders, fiddling with the strap of her own black tank top as she leans in closer to Aya. 

“Holy crap, you’re even more drunk than I thought.” Aya leans away from Ran, plugging her nose as the scent of thick alcohol runs through the room. 

“Yeah, I am! That’s why I wanted to- you know, I wanted to…” Ran doesn’t finish her sentence, instead mimicking thrusting with her hips. Aya shakes her head softly, but a smile crosses her face at Ran’s drunken antics (sober Ran would probably throw out every bottle of alcohol she owned if she knew what drunk Ran usually did). 

“We’re not gonna do that,” Aya voice is soft, each word hanging in the air for longer than it should. Ran tilts her head. She’d called Aya here for _that_ reason, right?

Ran lets out a groan, preparing to protest about whatever Aya wants to do with her. Ran knows Aya. As much as Aya would like to pretend that they stopped speaking after their breakup, Ran still remembers everything she’d ever learnt about Aya. 

That her favourite colour was pink, but not the pastels that were usually found in her clothes and hair. She liked bright pink, hot pink, like the colour of the sunset as the flames tear across the sky. 

That she liked flowers almost as much as Ran did and that if she wasn’t an idol, perhaps she’d own a flower shop. Perhaps she’d spend her days creating arrangements of pinks and reds that could drown out everything bad in the world. 

That there wasn’t a day that went by when Aya didn’t write an entry in her journal, whether it be about what she did that day or what she planned for the next. That was just who Aya was. Despite her clumsiness and forgetfulness, she never forgot a day to write in her journal. 

And that’s why Ran knows Aya. She knows that same smile that’s crossing her face and she knows the white skirt that’s neatly wrapping around Aya’s legs (it’s the same one that Aya wore on their second date. The one in the park when Aya had complained about the grass stains on the back of her skirt, to which Ran had offered to clean it for her). 

(There’s still a grass stain on the edge of the skirt, pastel green lining the supposedly white edge. Aya’s stubborn, Ran can admit that, almost as stubborn as Ran herself is.) 

Aya doesn’t explain any further, not as she grabs Ran’s hand and leads her to the bedroom. There’s a glass of water in her hand and Ran can’t even remember seeing Aya stop to go get it. 

Aya waits for Ran to get into bed before sitting next to her, fingers intertwining together on top of the black covers. 

She’s missed this.

* * *

_It was a bad idea to think I could stop._

Ram wakes up to a blanket wrapped all the way up to her neck and bedside table completely cleaned of any dirty dishes that she’d had on there in the past. Even the bottles of wine from the previous night were gone, not a drop of liquid on the floor. 

Ran can’t exactly remember cleaning up. To be fair, she doesn’t remember much from the previous night. A sharp pains stabs through her head and she realizes that ‘fuck, she drank way too much last night’. 

Picking up her phone, she scrolls through her call history. She knows how she can get when she’s drunk and it sometimes ends with a prank call to Himari, who always needs a call back and a confirmation that she’s okay (Ran doesn’t blame her. Himari grew up on Moca’s teasing so it’s understandable that she’s a little sensitive). 

_aya. 1:32 am outgoing_

_**Missed Call** aya. 1:58 am incoming _

**Fuck.**

Ran scrambles out of bed, black covers falling to the ground in a heap. Ran knows what she’s like when she’s drunk and she knows that if she called Aya, nothing good could have come out of it. 

She can only really think about everything bad that could have possible happened. Perhaps she’d called Aya to yell at her; to blame her for everything that Ran hated. Like peanut butter and how her fridge stopped working every couple of days cause she was too lazy to go out and buy a new one. 

Perhaps she’d called to try and hook up, to which Aya had promptly hung up on her (although that wouldn’t explain the missed call afterwards). Or maybe she’d just called Aya for absolutely no reason and they’d just spoken like mature adults. 

No, Ran knows herself far better than that. 

“Shit,” Ran mumbles under her breath as she scans the room for her slippers. What can she say? The floor’s cold and she doesn’t like wearing socks. The black slippers are nowhere to be found; not in their usual place next to her bedside table nor underneath her bed where she sometimes kicks them when she’s too tired to put them back neatly. 

She slides across the floor, nearly running headfirst into the doorframe She’s got a plan laid out in her head. A _simple_ plan. First, she gets a glass of water because her hangover feels like it’s tearing apart her head and if she doesn’t get something to soothe it quickly, Ran thinks that she might just _die_ (and to be fair, she’s never been one for theatrics). Second — and more importantly — she has to call Aya and explain. Explain that she was drunk. Explain that whatever she did, she didn’t mean it and besides, she couldn’t even remember it so how important could it possibly be? 

Her two-step plan is practically fool-proof! That is, if she can manage to pull off the phone call to Aya without chickening out beforehand. She’s chickened out plenty of times before, mere seconds away from calling to apologize. 

There’s something about Aya that makes Ran _hate_ herself. Not in the “self-loathing/depressed” kind of way. More like, she hates how powerless Aya makes her feel. As if Ran can’t control herself around Aya. 

Because when faced with wide pink eyes that sparkle more than the sun itself, it’s hard to resist. That’s who Aya is. Soft and beautiful, but deadly in a way that Ran doesn’t think she’ll ever be able to explain. Like once Aya has you in her grasp, you’ll never be able to forget the feeling of her warm hands closed around yours in the middle of the deep December snow. 

She’s stalling. Ran is standing in front of her bedroom door, thinking about Aya instead of doing anything to actually make progress on her plan. She takes in a heavy breath and opens the door, phone in hand as she marches towards her kitchen. 

She’s prepared. She can explain the situation to Aya and everything will be okay. No complications, no lies, and no problems. 

“Oh Ran! I thought you were still asleep. I’m making you breakfast!” 

Now that? That is a problem.

* * *

 _Darling, are you ready for more?_

“Aya?” Ran has to be hallucinating. There’s no other solution. She’s been so worried about having to call Aya and explain that now she’s hallucinating Aya standing in her kitchen, cooking her favourite breakfast. 

(She almost wishes it wasn’t a hallucination since the smell of that omelette is so damn good.) 

“Morning, Ran! How’s your head? Hina told me about this hangover cure that she swears works 100% of the time so I could make that for you if you want?” Aya turns from the stove as she gently lowers the omelette she’s making onto a plate. 

It’s all seeming less and less like a hallucination. 

“Are you real? I’m not dreaming or something right now?” Ran asks, taking the plate and sniffing the omelette. It smells real enough, like the same omelettes that Aya used to make every morning after one of Afterglow’s concerts, knowing that waking up to her favourite breakfast was the only thing sure to put Ran in a good mood for the rest of the day. 

“Oh, you probably don’t remember last night, right? You were really drunk,” Aya trails off into a soft giggle, passing over a pair of utensils to Ran and then taking the seat next to her. 

“Please tell me we didn’t… you know.” Ran runs a hand through her hair, squeezing tightly on her forehead as a sharp pain runs through her head. Aya watches the movement and quickly stands up, searching through the cupboard for an empty glass. 

“You wanted to,” Aya laughs as she begins preparing Hina’s so-called ‘magical hangover cure’, “We didn’t though. Didn’t want to take advantage of you cause you were too drunk to know what you were doing. Oh and don’t worry about any missed calls. I couldn’t find your phone when I was heading to bed, since I slept on the couch here, and I called it to find it.” 

“You’re the best, Aya.” Ran bites the inside of her cheek, staring as Aya lets out another soft laugh. Ran smiles at the sound. It’s one that she’s missed. 

(Ran thinks that perhaps if she ever wrote a book, she’d describe Aya’s laugh as something akin to a thousand fairies eating magical mushrooms... or something like that. She doesn’t really know, she’s never been too good at writing.) 

“When you’re feeling better, do you wanna talk about things?” Aya asks as she hands over the glass full of some sort of gross looking green liquid. Ran plugs her nose and downs the drink, face scrunching up at the horrid taste. 

Knowing Hina, that might not have even been a hangover cure. She might’ve just told Aya a random combination of gross ingredients in hopes that she’d feed it to someone. 

“I’d like that, Aya.” Ran smiles and Aya’s face breaks out into a beam of light. She’s beautiful. Ran’s always known that, but it really only strikes her now just how _beautiful_ she is. 

And as Aya sits next to her, laughing as she pokes at the omelette that she cooked before Ran even woke up, Ran thinks that this is exactly what she’s missed. 

Not the drunk booty calls or the messy affairs of ex girlfriends. Not the sex or the kisses or anything like that. She’s really just missed _Aya_. Just Aya herself. 

And she won’t let her go this time.

**Author's Note:**

> write ranaya fics rn i dare you


End file.
